


It's not living (if it's not with you)

by CapturetheFinnick



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Light Angst, Nicole's first week as sheriff, Police, Sheriff Nicole Haught, or maybe not that light?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapturetheFinnick/pseuds/CapturetheFinnick
Summary: It's Nicole's first week as Sheriff and everything's going wrong. Mildly angst kind of fluffy piece about how Nicole juggles being Sheriff and her relationship with Waverly.~On Nicole’s first day as Sheriff everything goes wrong.Nedley’s gone AWOL, she can’t find the key to that one desk drawer that has all the important papers in it, and the phone rings off the hook all day long. She gets called out to a case that turns out to be prank, and when she returns Lonnie tells her that an important visitor had come and gone, but he failed to get a name or reason as to why he was there or even a message for Nicole whatsoever. She resists yelling at him. She has a pointless argument with a citizen over a neighbour’s cat that was apparently ruining the neighbourhood atmosphere.Needless to say, it has been a stressful day.





	It's not living (if it's not with you)

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a very short oneshot idea that spiralled into 6.4k words bc I have no self control and hate being concise apparently? Idk I thought it would be interesting to see Nicole dealing with her first week as sheriff and the stresses of it / how she balances it all bc I don't think it's something the show really talks about and although i hope they might talk about it season 3 i kinda doubt it so I thought I'd write it. Fair warning I decided to write this in present tense for some reason and I never do that so we'll see how this goes, this is mostly mild angst with some hurt/comfort and some fluff, enjoy!!

On Nicole’s first day as Sheriff everything goes wrong.

Nedley’s gone AWOL, she can’t find the key to that one desk drawer that has all the important papers in it, and the phone rings off the hook all day long. She gets called out to a case that turns out to be prank, and when she returns Lonnie tells her that an important visitor had come and gone, but he failed to get a name or reason as to why he was there or even a message for Nicole whatsoever. She resists yelling at him. She has a pointless argument with a citizen over a neighbour’s cat that was apparently _ruining the neighbourhood atmosphere._

Needless to say, it has been a stressful day.

She buries her head in her hands, feeling her cheeks press against her palms. The wall of sheriffs stares down at her, and she swears she can almost see their eyes moving, judging her. A long line of people for the job, all of them male. A literal weight was on her shoulders. She feels a million beady eyes stare at her in the darkness, people waiting below with pitchforks, wanting her to fail, ready to stomp on her when she did. _A small-town vibe._ She sees the space where her photo is going to go and takes a deep sigh. It had felt exciting when Nedley had told her, something she’d wanted for a long time, something she deserved. Now it just feels like a mistake. She’s in charge of a town. She can almost hear her parents’ laughter like an echo, _they put you in charge really?_ Most days Nicole still feels like that same small child, trapped in that same small bubble.

At least Nedley had always believe in her.

_Where the hell is Nedley?_

When Waverly had swung by at lunch, a flounce in her step and a smile on her face, Nicole had tried to entertain the possibility that she would be able to spend her first lunch as sheriff with her, that she would be able to eat the food that Waverly swung inside the picnic basket, that she would be able to _have it all._ But the phone kept ringing, and Nicole had had to grab her coat, heading out with an apologetic kiss to her forehead. She had things to do.

She supposes that Waverly had eaten the picnic alone or found Wynonna. Truth be told she doesn’t know because she hasn’t spoken to her all day and now the sun has set, painting the sky midnight black. The witching hour. Nicole stares at the paperwork on her desk and it stares back. There’s a buzzing in the halls and a noise in the night, an owl that reminds Nicole of summers at camp and roasting marshmallows. The whole world feels empty, not even the ghosts have bothered to show up, just darkness rattling, bouncing from wall to wall. She swears the room is smaller than it was that morning. She doesn’t know how she let the time get away from her.

_Long day._

~

When she gets home Waverly is asleep on the sofa, the tv still blaring behind her. She’s still wearing her clothes from earlier in the day, a glass of wine lying abandoned on the coffee table. Nicole supposes she was waiting up for her. She wonders how long she waited, a stab of guilt in her stomach. The clock reads her the time with a raised eyebrow. She knows she’s late. She doesn’t need reminding.

She takes her jacket off, hanging it in the hallway, and leaving her shoes at the front door, wandering towards Waverly and pausing, taking a moment to watch her sleep. Her face is soft, one hand tucked under her head, the other hanging off the sofa, her face half buried in a pillow that read _namast’ay in bed today_ that Wynonna had found way too funny, presenting it to Nicole with the biggest grin, and continuing to crack up days later. _It was the small joys._

“Baby,” Nicole says softly, placing a hand on her arm, Waverly stirring softly, her eyes fluttering open.

“Nicole,” she whispers, “did I fall asleep? I’m sorry,” she says, pushing herself up on her elbows, her head turning to look at the wine, abandoned on the table, “I bought wine and takeout, to celebrate your first day as sheriff,”

Nicole face falls, feeling guilt twist her stomach into knots again.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole says, moving to tuck Waverly’s hair back behind her ear, “I’m late home,”

Waverly’s eyes drift to the clock, “Oh,”

Nicole doesn’t miss the way Waverly’s face falls, just a little. She doesn’t miss the fact that it’s her that caused that. Waverly lies her head back against the pillow.

“Tomorrow?” Nicole promises,

“Uh-huh,” Waverly says softly, her voice laced with sleep as Nicole scoops her up in the arms, pressing her lips against her forehead before climbing the stairs, placing her down on their bed.

She lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching Waverly, curled against the wall, before letting herself collapse beside her, the longest day now behind her.

~

The second day Nicole Haught is sheriff is more stressful than the first, if that is even possible.

When she arrives the police station is in disarray. Lonnie is manning the front desk, warding off citizens like buzzing wasps, paperwork scattered all over the desk, like a small hurricane had passed through on Nicole’s way to work. Just the sight of it makes Nicole want to turn around and walk back out. But this is _her_ responsibility now, so instead she just takes a breath and plasters a smile on her face that can maybe just about pass as genuine.

“Sheriff,” Lonnie says like a man who’s just spotted water in the desert.

“Lonnie,” Nicole says, still managing to keep her smile when she notices that heading up the crowd is Bunny Loblaw.

The very same Bunny Loblaw who tried everything in her power to keep Nicole from becoming Sherriff. The very same Bunny Loblaw who placed the picture of her and Waverly face down, who’d made her distaste quite clear, time and time again. _Great day._ And it’s only 9am.

“What appears to be the problem?” She says, moving to take over from Lonnie, indicating for him to clear up some of the paperwork, just the sight of it all scattered is giving her a small headache.

She watches the distaste spread across Bunny’s face, seemingly swallowing it before speaking.

The regular part of Nicole whispered _bitch_ but the Sherriff half smiled even wider, placing a hand on the desk in front of her, a smile she hopes says _I’m here for you_ even when she means _get the fuck out of my police station._

“The Arabs, that’s what,” she says, her voice snarky, her head tilted to one side,

Nicole tries and fails to decode what she’s saying. It’s a rather depressing headspace to put oneself in.

“Lonnie,” she says curtly, asking him to fill her in,

“They’re out of gas down at the garage,”

Purgatory has one gas station, with exactly two pumps and no public transport system. So, when there’s no gas, no one’s going anywhere. A cage full of discontented citizens.

This is a large-scale problem and Nicole feels herself instinctively turn towards the Sheriff’s office, expecting Nedley, scrambling for anybody _higher up_ she can dump this on, but there is no one _higher up_ now, only her. This is her large-scale problem now.

_Nedley, I sure could use your help._

“If there’s no gas, it’ll be to do with Mr Kane and his business,” Nicole says, trying to keep her voice steady,

“It’s the Arabs they won’t sell it to him,” Bunny says again, insistently, almost frantic and Nicole resists the urge to shoot her down, right there and then. But she doesn’t know where to start with unpacking it, so she simply ignores it. Sometimes that’s the only way forward. As Purgatory’s first gay female sheriff she’s fast learning that.

“I’ll go talk to Mr Kane, you’ll be fine here Lonnie?” she says, watching him gulp. She knows he won’t be fine, but what else can she do. She’s throwing him to lions. She’s authorising a lion fight in her own damn police station. It’s one of those days.

“Damn foreigners,” she hears Bunny say on her way out and Lonnie softly whisper,

“Mr Kane is from California,”

“ _It’s all the same,”_

~

Nicole spends the rest of the day in what can only be described as a soap opera. She intervenes in fights, she trudges round to Mr Kane’s relatives who live one town over, drinking one too many cups of coffee in the process, and she uses her detective skills to determine that Mr Kane’s cousin wrecked the delivery on the way over because he accidentally hit his car last week. By the end of the day she has two cousins who still mildly dislike each other but can agree _crime is bad._ Sometimes she can’t help but feel overqualified for her job.

By the time she leaves Mr Kane has another shipment coming for tomorrow, Mr Kane’s cousin has got a stern warning, and Bunny has finally left the police station.

All she wants is to collapse onto her sofa, but she’s two days behind on paperwork, a small tower on her desk, a sky scraper even, and when she gets back Waverly’s in her office, her legs swinging, perched on top of her desk.

Nicole had promised _tomorrow,_ and tomorrow had come, as it tends to do. She had to let Waverly down again.

“Jeremy got a lead on the case,” Waverly says, her eyes bright, jumping down from the desk, “we’re going to head out on some recon this afternoon,”

Nicole is so behind on her own work, she hasn’t even begun to catch up on what Wynonna’s _‘special’_ department was up to, which is probably technically her job, but which at the very least is what she should probably do to be a good girlfriend. _Probably._ A lot of things have become hazy for her since she became sheriff.

She plasters the same fake smile on her face and nods, but Waverly sees the tiredness behind her eyes,

“Are you okay?” she says, her eyes scrunching in concern that Nicole wishes she could wash away. Her worries don’t belong in Waverly’s eyes, or anywhere near Waverly for that matter. Waverly’s got enough on her plate, as ever, she doesn’t need Nicole’s problems, and Nicole can look out for herself. She always had.

Waverly moves to place a hand on Nicole’s cheek, rubbing her thumb along her cheek bone,

“Is this _oil_?” she says, examining the black substance that’s now smudged across her thumb.

Nicole sighs, “It’s been a bit of a crazy morning, that’s all,”

She feels herself pull away from Waverly and turns her head so she doesn’t have to see her face fall.

“I’m really busy at the moment baby,” she says softly, “I don’t know if I’ll have time to hang out today, this is going to be a crazy week,”

She almost feels Waverly become smaller, somehow inhabiting less space than before, shrinking in Nicole’s presence. She hates that she’s caused it.

“No, I get it,” Waverly says, her voice small, “Sherriff is a big responsibility, I’m proud of you,” a smile falls over her face, but Nicole can tell it’s not entirely genuine, she knows these things now. It isn’t that she doesn’t mean it, i=t’s that there’s something else there, a shadow of sadness, of disappointment.

Waverly moves to leave,

“Good luck with your case,” Nicole says, attempting a smile, feeling like there was more space between them than just the few short steps to the door,

“And you,” Waverly says, lingering at the door a beat too long.

~

Nicole pulls the paperwork out the drawer (she eventually found the key under a book on the top shelf of the bookshelf because _why not)_ and sighs, glancing at the full beaming sun, already threatening to set over the horizon.

_Slipping through my fingers._

But life hates her, but of course. Because they have to throw _five_ different people in the cells for being drunk and disorderly even though it’s barely 5pm, and all of them want to sing different drunk songs right by Nicole’s office, so that she can hear them even with the door shut, and even through special noise-cancelling headphones (headphones Wynonna had bought her mostly as a joke, mostly just so she could say _it’s probably me who needs these but…)_ She reads the same lines four times, she accidentally signs in the wrong places, she misplaces a very important document and finds it half an hour later right there on her desk, staring at her (after she’d already blamed Lonnie for moving it, _she was making a great Sheriff)_

In the end she gets not even a quarter of her paperwork done, and Lonnie drops off more onto her desk. She guesses they don’t tell you that when you get your dream job it’s mostly paperwork. Why would they?

Not that Nedley was telling her much these days. Or anything really.

~

By the time she calls it a day, her back cracks more than a glow stick, her neck is sore and her head hurts something awful. The moon hangs bright in the sky, mocking her, spreading its beams through the windows. _Nobody else is here. You’re not supposed to be here._ She can feel it’s eyes looking her over, picking through her with a fine toothcomb. A brief flash of wanting to give up. She shakes it off like sand from her hair, leaning back on her chair, moving to pick her phone up from where it’s been turned over on her desk.

_Five missed calls._

She has five missed calls from Waverly.

Her heart drops right down to the pit of her stomach. Nicole is sure it stops beating for a short while, her breath catching in her throat. She leans back against the desk, her face suddenly as pale as the moonlight.

Any attempt to convince herself that _it’s probably nothing_ goes out the window, she’s on high alert.

The phone rings.

_Pick up. Pick up. Please pick up._

No answer.

Nicole doesn’t know what to do. Where to go. She spins around the room, as if something in the office could help her with the situation. As if an umbrella stand or some old pens would help her with whatever the hell was happening. But part of her knows what she’s really looking for, she’s looking for Nedley, his guidance, the knowledge that she’s not alone.

_But Nedley’s not here. You’re in charge now. This is your responsibility._

Her hands are shaking now as she redials, casting erratic shadows in the moonlight. She throws her jacket over her shoulders, every ring like another load of dirt thrown into her grave until she’s choking on it. Her throat feels tight.

_What if Waverly’s not okay? What if she’s lying somewhere? What if? What if? WhatifWhatifWhatifWhatif?_

She gets to the police cruiser, her hands shivering as she tries to lock the police station, the key falling, one, two, three, times. Her pulse races, _fuck will this door not just lock._ This is not what she needs.

She grips too tightly onto the steering wheel, not moving anywhere. Her panic wants her to move, but she doesn’t know where. She doesn’t even know where Waverly is.

And there’s still no answer.

She rings again. No answer.

She rings Wynonna. No answer.

She rings Doc. She rings Jeremy. She even rings Robin. No answer.

She throws her head back against the head rest, taking a deep breath.

_What now?_

The moon mocks her still. Big and bold and beautiful, it’s light leaking everywhere, as if spotlighting her, as if telling her _this is on you._

_And it was. And it was?_

Her hand hovers over Nedley’s name in her contacts. She hasn’t heard from him in more than a few days.

_He doesn’t want you disturbing him,_ a part of her brain tells her.

But no, Nedley’s not like that, is he? _Is he?_

But her girlfriend’s in trouble and she’s shaking and freezing cold in her cruiser outside the police station and _nobody is answering their goddamn phones._ She has to do it.

She’s just about to press his name, when Waverly calls her, and Nicole presses that button faster than anything she’s ever done in her life.

“Waverly?” she says, her voice sharp, her breath forming a cloud in the crisp moonlight,

“Nicole,” she says, her voice laced with tiredness,

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Waverly says, and her answer is vague and short, and she trails off as if she has something else to say, as if she’s holding back,

“I have five missed calls,” Nicole says, her spare hand gripping the steering wheel so tight she could see her knuckles turning a bright white,

Waverly takes a breath, “Um we were at the hospital?”

“The hospital?!”

“Yeah there was an accident of sorts,” she says, her voice far too relaxed right now. Nicole can feel her heart starting to pound again,

“An accident?”

“Yeah we were chasing down the guy and Wy got jumped by another guy,”

“She got jumped?!” Nicole says, feeling guilt rise in her throat like bile. _She should have been there._

“Nic, you need to stop repeating everything I say back to me,” Waverly says, her voice a little harsher than usual, “everything’s fine, we got him off her, but she broke her arm, we just needed a lift back that’s all,”

“Oh I can come now,” Nicole says, feeling a wave of relief it was Wynonna not Waverly who was injured, followed by another wave of guilt. She supposes mildly guilty is just her emotional state now.

“We’re already home,” Waverly says,

“Oh,”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Doc drove us home,”

“Oh,”

Another beat of silence,

“Do you want me to come over,” Nicole says quietly, her heart in her throat, she can feel it beating,

“I think it’s fine, Wy’s already asleep I’m about to go join her,” she says quietly,

And Nicole’s heart drops a little. Because even though it’s not really a rejection it sure as hell feels like one.

“Okay,” she says, her voice wobbling just a little, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“See you,”

“Love you,”

“Love you too,”

Waverly hangs up and it’s just Nicole and the moon now. Nicole, the moon, and her pent-up anxiety running laps around her veins.

Nicole’s left scattered like a balloon that was blown up too fast and falls apart at the slightest touch. She can feel her pent-up energy, her pent-up anxiety melt from her, fading into the cruiser seats. She’s deflated and she’s guilty and she’s exhausted.

_Now what?_

~

That’s how she ends up curled up on her sofa, hot chocolate going cold in her hands, blankly staring at a not-yet-on TV secretly wishing she’d brought some of the paperwork from the station home, secretly never wanting to step foot in there again.

She keeps hearing Waverly’s voice, laced with disappointment, like an echo around her peeling wallpaper. The distance between them feels much further than a couple of minutes down the road. It’s weird to think it’s only been a few days, a few days ago she was sat around the Earp table, she’d just become sheriff, her and Waverly were on cloud nine. And part of her knows you have to work hard for the things you really want, and part of her thinks this is too hard, and part of her thinks she’s overreacting and part of her is just really, really tired.

She hasn’t slept properly in a few days, she’s been stressed, she’s drank too much caffeine.

Her bed is calling to her, and she shuts off the part of her brain that tells her that she doesn’t _deserve_ to sleep, that she was to _work work work,_ that she has _things to do._

She collapses into her bed, pulling the musty sheets around her, she doesn’t really sleep here much anymore. She doesn’t have any toothpaste, and her favourite pyjamas lie in Waverly’s top drawer. She doesn’t really sleep without Waverly much anymore.

She hears a purr from the end of the bed. Calamity Jane, her head cocked, her eyes shining bright. She pats the bed beside her. _Here, girl_. She would have to do for tonight. Nicole clutches her a little too close to her chest, but Calamity seems to accept it, nuzzling closer towards her, sensing that she needs it. Nicole falls asleep, the moon still bright and bold outside of her window.

~

By the time wakes up she has a plan.  Apparently eight hours of sleep clears your head, allows you to think and function like a regular human, who knew. It’s 6am and dawn is filtering through the window, the curtains still lying undrawn, abandoned and definitely covered in a thin layer of dust just like everything else in the house, Nicole didn’t truly realise how much she’d abandoned this house before today.

She pulls her police uniform on (the same one as yesterday, her spare uniform was at Waverly’s), quickly grabbing her bag and placing a bowl of cat food on the floor (double topped up for good measure – she saw Calamity Jane less and less these days), before leaving, locking up behind her.

She drives the cruiser to her and Waverly’s favourite coffee shop, a small one right on the edge of the centre of town, where the owner knows them by name, and always gives them a free (vegan) muffin. She picks them both up a coffee (she takes hers black and full of sugar, and Waverly has almond milk) and pastries each, even stopping by the local flower shop and picking up a bunch of flowers. _Nicole Haught doesn’t do things in halves._

She feels smug as she drives up to the homestead, the flowers lay across the backseat, the food safely stowed on the passenger seat. The sun is warming up and the sky is perfectly pink, stretching across, infiltrating any darkness that’s left, soft and gentle, a smudge of chalk. It’s a clear day and Nicole can see the mountains beyond, dusted with a layer of snow like icing on cupcakes, the sun beginning to fade from mellow orange to bright yellow. She couldn’t have asked for a nicer morning. The bitterness from yesterday has faded, and instead she feels only peace, only happiness –

Her phone is ringing.

She almost doesn’t want to pick it up, she has plans goddamn it and her morning is lovely and picture perfect, but she’s the s _heriff,_ and it could be _important._

And it was.

There was a hold-up at one of the stores in town, Mrs Lovett had been robbed at gunpoint, she was missing several hundred dollars and fifteen packets of beef jerky. So she turns around, the homestead still in view on the horizon, the food and coffee going cold on the passenger seat. _So close but so far._ For a town with supposedly little to none non-supernatural related crime, it was really testing her this week.

She can see the homestead disappearing in the rear-view mirror. Disappointment flushes her veins. All her optimism, all her plans for the morning, of waking Waverly up, of kissing her softly and apologising for the night before, of drinking coffee while watching shitty morning shows in bed, had disappeared to be replaced with robbery, trying to console an elderly woman, tracking down a criminal, and paperwork. _Oh god so much paperwork._ A part of her wishes she wasn’t sheriff in this moment. And that part of her scares her.

~

It’s an exhausting morning, both emotionally and physically. When she gets to the store, Mrs Lovett is still shaking, sitting quietly behind her counter, the shelves still turned over, too scared to move. Nicole gets down on her knees and looks in the eyes and tries to be there for her, but really the only thing she can do is try to catch the robber, and so she promises Mrs Lovett that she will, and hopes she isn’t lying. She calls the local doctor to come check Mrs Lovett out, and check her heart is fine, whilst clearing up the store, she even gets a free pineapple for her trouble (she doesn’t quite know how to tell an elderly woman with possible trauma that she doesn’t in fact like pineapple), and she escorts her home, all the while hoping the police station hasn’t burned down with Lonnie in charge, all the while trying not to think about Waverly and coffee and the soft and easy morning she sacrificed. _Was this her life now?_

_~_

After Mrs Lovett was home and she’s sure she’s got as much evidence from the scene as she possibly can, her and some others interview anybody who might be a witness. Truth be told, Purgatory sheriff department is quite badly underfunded (shocker) and she can only spare one other cop, so it takes longer than she would like. By the time it’s over it’s already 1pm and her stomach is growling something awful – she tries not to think too much about the (now ruined) pastries still sitting in her front seat. The sun is high in the sky now, any promise of her soft morning has faded away.

When she gets back to the police station she’s beat, almost asleep on her feet and in desperate need of break. Shockingly everything seemed to have run fine with Lonnie in charge, no visible damage and no angry citizens – maybe the world was finally giving her a break. She leans back in her chair. She knows she should go see Waverly, she knows she’s just down the hall, that she owes her an apology, that she misses her and doesn’t want to make it worse, that she should at the very least go see if Wynonna’s okay, but her eyelids are so heavy and the space heater has filled the office up with warm air, and she’s damn tired, her heart’s heavy, her head’s heavy and so when someone knocks on the door, three raps bold and sharp, she almost cries.

_I thought you were giving me a break universe._

But when she opens the door it’s Nedley. And he looks smaller than she remembers, out of his police khakis and in regular clothes, oversized jeans and a garish Hawaiian shirt, bright pink flowers and all, and Nicole could almost hug him, a sad little smile written across his face.

“Sheriff,” she says, taking a step back. Although she guesses she can’t call him that anymore,

“Sheriff,” he says, moving as if to doff a hat that he was no longer wearing,

There’s a beat of silence,

“Sorry I’ve been absent,” he says, his voice gruff, his hands shoved deep within his pockets, his eyes avoiding looking directly at Nicole,

“It’s fine,” Nicole says with a smile, (even though it really hadn’t been fine – but that wasn’t Nedley’s responsibility anymore), “here take a seat,” she says, gesturing to the chair, “do you want some coffee?”

“I’m good,” he says, sitting down and Nicole is acutely aware that she’s on the wrong side of the desk. Here Nedley is, years of being sheriff under his belt, a good man, a man who knows what he’s doing, who doesn’t panic in the face of situations, and there she is on the other side, a fraud, someone who wears the clothes, who can put on the façade but at the heart of it all is struggling to even be a decent sheriff let alone a good one.

She wants to cry, to tell him to take it back, but instead she says,

“What brings you here?”, breaking the silence. She wishes she had a coffee just so she would have something to do with her hands.

“I’m sorry Nicole,” he says and Nicole’s brow furrows but she lets him continue, “I planned to be here for you, to hand over the reins to guide you, I know how hard it is to become sheriff, and I had to do it with no guide after Ward died,” his eyes are filled with sadness, and Nicole has an urge to wrap her arms around him, “and I promised myself I wouldn’t do that to whoever came next, I feel like I’ve failed you,”

He looks up, making direct eye contact with Nicole,

 “Nonsense Sher- err Nedley, you’ve not failed me, this has been my responsibility not yours, I can’t be a burden to you,”

A flash of surprise lit up Nedley’s eyes,

“You’re not a burden, I should have been there for you, you can ask me anything,” he says earnestly, “I’ll always be here for you, Nicole, from now on, and I’m sorry, this last case shook me up, and I was embarrassed to return, which is no excuse, you deserve more,”

And it’s too much, Nicole feels like she’s been pulled apart and put together repeatedly for the last few days straight, her world’s been turned upside down and shaken from side to side, she’s emotionally exhausted and dead on her feet, she feels the weight of everything on her shoulders, like a hand pushing her further and further underwater, she feels tears start to well in her eyes,

“I’m sorry,” she half laughs, wiping the tears from her eyes, “sorry sir,”

“Please Nicole, you can call me Randy,” he says, moving closer to her, offering her a hug. She stands up, hugging him, _like she’s ever going to call him Randy,_ even the thought of it made her laugh a little,

“Sorry,” she says again, the tears starting to ease up, “been a rough few days,”

“I’ll bet,” Nedley says, “everything okay?”

“Oh the usual,” Nicole says, not one for emotions or opening up, she wants to talk about it but the words stick in her throat. _So damn stubborn._

Nedley raises his eyebrows with a look that says _you’re not getting away with it that easy, girl._

“It’s been a tad overwhelming,” she confesses. _Understatement of the century._

“The first week is intense anyway, and then I heard about the robbery? And the gas shortage?” he shakes his head, “I should have been here,”

“No, I should have known how to handle it,” Nicole says firmly,

Nedley shakes his head again, “from what I’ve heard you’ve handled it perfectly,” he says, “it’s not an easy job, lord knows it was always a struggle for me,”

_It was?_

“Yeah I just constantly feel like I’m letting people down,” Nicole says, staring at a particular spot of wood in the desk so she doesn’t have to look at Nedley, so that she can pretend that she’s not opening up, not being emotional or vulnerable, that it’s just her and that particular spot in the wood of the desk, that she’s not disappointing the only father figure she’s ever really had.

“You get used to that,” he says wistfully, “but believe me,” he places his hand on top of Nicole’s, “you’re not letting anyone down, least of all me,”

Nicole is silent for a moment, the tears still brewing in her eyes, her stomach a mess of emotions,

“Thank you,” she says quietly,

There’s a moment of silence.

“Is everything okay at home?” Nedley says,

“Of course,”

“Because I saw Waverly in the hall and she looked mighty forlorn,” he says with a look that looked right through her, _he knew Nicole,_ nothing got passed him.

“It’s been difficult,” she says with a sigh, might as well give in to it, “there’s not been a lot of time, I may or may not have been prioritising work,”

Nedley pauses for a moment, leaning forward in his chair,

“Family is the most important thing there is, Nicole,” he says, “and I don’t mean flesh and blood, I mean those people you care about, who care about you,” he continues, “it’s great that you care so much about the town, there’s nobody better to care for them, you know I believe that wholeheartedly,” he smiles and Nicole tries to stop another wave of tears from taking over, “but it’s a thankless job and they’ll never love you back – not wholly, but what you have with your family, and what you have with Waverly –“ he pauses, chuckling, “I may be on old divorcee dad, but even I can see that’s the real thing, and even I know you shouldn’t let that go,”

Nicole feels tears escaping down her cheeks now, faster than she can wipe them away, dropping onto the desk below, dropping onto that _one particular spot of wood._

Nedley shifts awkwardly and she can tell he doesn’t quite know what to do. Nedley is practically a father to half the town, and classically, just like a father, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with emotions. It’s charming, and it pulls on Nicole’s heartstrings, it makes her realise just how much she’s missed him, not him being in charge, not him taking responsibility, but him, her awkward little sheriff father, with a heart of gold.

“Thank you, Nedley,” Nicole says, looking up and making eye contact for near the first time since he set foot in her office, smiling at him, sunshine through the rain, a rainbow smile.

“Any time,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling, “now,” he says firmly, “I think you need the afternoon off, don’t you?”

“You no longer have that power,” Nicole laughs softly,

“No but you do, and believe me, you deserve it,” he says sincerely, and Nicole thinks she might start crying again. It’s been a tough week, and Nicole has forgotten that she’s allowed to lean on people sometimes, that she has people who will fight in her corner no matter what, she has people to turn to and people to lift her up. She was done pushing them away, she makes that promise to herself right then and there, people wanted to be there for her, and she was going to let them, no matter how stubborn she wanted to be about it.

“Thank you,” she smiles,

“I’ll hang around,” he says, “just in case, I know how it is, besides I should catch up with Lonnie,” he smiles, and Nicole knows for how much he rolls his eyes and pretends to hate him, Lonnie is really just a bumbling innocent fool and Nedley misses him. “Go,” he urges, smiling, and Nicole pulls her jacket off the back of her chair, smiling at him one last time before leaving.

~

When she gets to the _special_ department Waverly’s already left. It’s just Wynonna, her arm in a sling, her other hand clutching a donut, dipping it in a cup of coffee as she looks over some paperwork.

“Waverly’s not here,” she says without even looking up, “cellphones people, use them.”

“Do you know where she is?” Nicole says, and Wynonna raises her eyebrows,

“Done fighting already?”

“We weren’t fighting –“ Nicole says stubbornly,

“I live with Waverly you idiot, you’re not getting past me,” she grins, “plus we’ve ran out of milk _and_ eggs so I know you haven’t been round,”

Nicole blushes, “Fine, do you know where she is?”

“Homestead,” Wynonna says, turning around to Dolls as Nicole leaves,

“You owe me,” she smirks at him, “pay up,”

He took one earphone out, “What for?”

“Less than two days fighting, I called it,” she grins, “damn idiots are way too in love,”

“I think it’s sweet,” he says and Wynonna grins at him widely. He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes, “don’t tell anyone I said that!”

“You’ve gone soft,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows,

“Have not,”

“Hey nerd!” Wynonna shouts to Jeremy across the room, “Guess what Dolls just said,”

“Shut up!” Dolls shouts, but he’s grinning just the same.

~

When she gets to the homestead, Waverly is sitting legs crossed on the sofa, a steaming bowl of noodles clutched in her hands. Purgatory’s vegan takeout options leaved something to be desired, so she likes to come home for lunch, secretly sneaking in an episode of gossip girl while she eats. Nicole watches her through the window for a second before knocking, she has a key, she practically lives there after all, but this seems more of a knocking moment.

Waverly pulls the door open, looking at her in surprise,

“Nicole?” she says, her brow furrowing, “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Nicole smiles wide, “somebody reminded me about what’s really important,”

“And that is?”

“You,” Nicole grins, and she relishes the way a smile flickers across Waverly’s face, softening all of her features, “I’m so sorry baby I know I’ve been ignoring you a bit, and that’s not fair,”

Waverly smiles softly, “No, it’s fine, your job’s important,”

“Yes, but you’re more important, and I should have been there, especially the other day,” Nicole says, taking a breath, “but I’m here now,” she smiles, and Waverly leans up to kiss her, soft and sweet. Nicole feels something cold on the back of her neck and when she turns around it’s starting to snow, the sky pale blue as far as the eye can see, small snowflakes fluttering down, lightly coating everything like a perfect dusting of ice sugar. _The cherry on top of the cake,_ as they do say. Nicole wonders whether she’ll ever stop finding snow magical, Waverly always teases her about it and calls her a southern girl, and says she watches too many Christmas films, but Nicole knows she secretly loves seeing Nicole’s eyes light up. And now, the snow coming down heavier, twinkling in the bright sun, Nicole can’t help but think of it is as a sign, a sign that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, that she shouldn’t be going anywhere else in a hurry.

Waverly pulls her inside, shutting the door and placing her arms around Nicole’s neck,

“What do you want to do now?” she whispers, still smiling,

“Whatever you want,” she grins widely, leaning down to kiss Waverly one more time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! I'm taking a small break from writing my chapter fic (only 4 weeks in i know) bc I felt uninspired and then this took up all my time, but it should be back a week on sunday!  
> Please comment if you can, I really appreciate it!  
> My tumblr is waverlysangels and my twitter is waverlysangel,  
> idk how well the title fits but like i',m obsessed with the 1975 song atm so it was on the mind, hope you have a great day!


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